Death
by Flashback 1701
Summary: Humans are not meant to see Death... not like this. RussAmer. Oneshot. character death.


Warning: Character death.

A little blurb I wrote somewhere in the chaos of school. I hope you like it!

* * *

The whirring of life support machines drew him in, alerting him of a life about to gutter out like some exhausted, wax candle. The air smelt of blood and tears, tickling his nose with the salty, metallic mixture. However, he barely noticed it – he's grown almost fond of it over the years.

Finally, he stood before the white, hospital curtain that guarded the bed from prying eyes. Drawing it back with his large, gloved hand, his amethyst gaze fell upon his newest victim: a pale, blonde boy whose face was largely obscured by gauze.

"Are you a doctor?" A doubtful voice broke his train of thought, his heart clawing its way up his throat.

He whirled. A nearly identical boy was glaring at him with swollen blue eyes, tears leaking down his cheeks. Something in the set of the twin's jaw told him that this one was bolder, stronger in character, than his brother.

He grinned. "You could say so."

"Oh." The blonde winced, shuddering visibly as he fell back into his chair.

He strode forward, placing his gloved hand on the dying boy's forehead. Flashes of color splashed across his conscious: a half naked baby; a toddler wielding a miniature, plastic hockey stick; a child eating pancakes, clutching a large, white teddy bear to his chest; a teenager speeding down the clean, unmarked ice of a skating rink; a pair of headlights, then static. Nothing.

"Who was driving?"

His brother stared at the white rubber toes of his sneakers for a long time before he replied. "He was."

"What happened?"

"Some asshole was driving in the wrong fucking lane." The bitterness in his voice was obvious as he bit off the ends of his words and spat them onto the rubber-tiled floor. "Mattie swerved to… I-I mean, he…"

"He saved you, yes?"

The boy struggled to gather the composure to form his response. "Yes."

"You do not have to appear strong to me, Alfred." His red-rimmed eyes were fixed stubbornly on the broken boy lying amongst the starched, white sheets. "In my profession, I have seen many people at their worst."

Alfred shrugged, leaning back in his seat, when the hairs on the back of his neck stood up straight. "Wait as second, how do you know my na-?"

A loud beeping shattered the stillness of the room. Almost instantaneously, a doctor flanked with two nurses threw back the curtain and converged upon the patient.

"What's going on?" His brother leapt to his feet, rushing to the bedside. "What's happening?"

"Get him out of here!" The doctor was calling, "He shouldn't be in here!"

A masked nurse quickly ushered him to the door, pressing gently at his lower back. "Come on, hon."

The next thing he knew, Alfred was staring at the windowless door, feeling as though a great void had opened up, separating him from his twin. Falling to his knees, the teenager pushed his glasses back onto his forehead and ground the palms of his hands into his eyes.

_Damn it, Mattie…_

Less than an hour later, his brother was declared dead, and Alfred realized that the man in black had vanished into thin air. When he'd asked for him, the doctor had just stared at him, insisting that no one in the hospital fit that description.

* * *

He toyed absently with the edge of his cream-colored scarf – the only article of his clothing that wasn't black – lounging on the breeze outside the hospital. Beside him, the (recently deceased) twin drifted silently, looking timid and somewhat surprised.

"Your brother was not supposed to see that." He explained, sounding as though this was the most obvious thing in the world. "Humans are not meant to see Death."

The boy said nothing. Truthfully, he wasn't surprised – souls were never very talkative. Many of them sobbed quietly as he dragged them from their bodies, some seemed to go into shock. Very few ran eagerly to him with open arms.

"I suppose we have wasted enough time."

Again, the boy said nothing.

He sighed in exasperation, grabbing the blonde by his thin wrist and guiding him upwards into the vibrantly blue sky. For a moment, he found himself thinking that the color of the heavens wasn't all too different from that of the tearful depths of the brother's eyes.

* * *

Alfred's eyes stung as he stared down at his brother's pale, waxy face. Matthew looked peaceful, but empty. There was nothing left of him but a hollow container of flesh that held no promise of waking.

Finally, the casket was shut, hiding behind it the ugly wounds and bruises that marred the boy's almost translucent skin. A sob lodged itself in Alfred's throat, suffocating him as he turned to leave. The mortician bowed respectively, but he held the air of one who had seen far too many grieving loved ones. His expression matched that of his charges – dead and uncaring.

There was no visitation, only a funeral on a cold, crisp day that sent the mourners' breath fogging about their heads in delicate, curling clouds. They shivered under their coats and hats, tucking their stiff, white hands into their armpits. Consoling words were spoken, prayers were whispered, steadying contact was shared. Alfred's vision blurred.

He barely remembered tossing the first handful of dirt onto the rich finish of the casket, and he watched numbly as shovelful after shovelful of dirt built a barrier between him and his better half.

"You are going to catch cold standing out here, Alfred."

Alfred whirled, recognizing the voice immediately.

He was sitting on a grave marker, a patronizing grin stretched across his lips. The chill of the day seemed to hold no power over him; his words didn't produce so much as a wisp of steam.

"Who are you?" The words rattled from his mouth, sliding past his chattering teeth. "_What _are you?"

He chuckled throatily. "I have had many names in my profession. I am known as Mors, Tod, Mort, Muerte, смерть… but you know me best as Death."

Alfred stared into his chaotic, violet eyes, feeling as though he was being pulled in. "Death?"

"However, my presence often puts humans ill at ease, so you may call me Ivan."

_Ivan._ The teenager mouthed the word, his teeth scraping against his lower lip. _Ivan._

"Twins are strange creatures, yes?" Ivan mused, rising slowly to his black-booted feet. "Often times their souls become so intertwined, that I am unable to distinguish them as separate entities."

Alfred nodded numbly, unable to believe what he was hearing.

"Some twins are so tightly bound to each other that when one dies, the other's soul is unable to recover." He let this sink in, bringing his black leather-clad fingers up to caress the blonde's face. "But you are strong, Alfred. You have no desire to follow your brother. No, not yet."

"I…"

Death slowly shut Alfred's eyelids, drawing the thin curtains of flesh across his endless, sapphire orbs.

"W-what are you-?" The protest faded away, pulsing gently against his breastbone. A kiss was pressed to his forehead, the cold lips leeching the warmth from his flesh.

"You are not going to die, Alfred." He murmured, carving the words into the boy's skin. "But when you do, please do not be afraid."

Alfred's eyes fluttered open as Ivan drew away, his searching gaze catching only a flicker of motion before he found himself alone once more. He stood still, eyes wide and chest heaving, half expecting Ivan to pop up from behind. He didn't, and the wind blew across the abandoned cemetery, rustling through the black silhouettes of the naked trees.

* * *

Ivan hummed softly to himself, lightly riding the breeze above the boy's head. For the first time in centuries, he felt a bittersweet twinge in the pit of his stomach as he parted ways with Alfred.

Those beautiful, lively eyes made his frozen heart stir in his hollow chest. Warmth, a sensation he hadn't experienced in an eternity, blossomed from the core of his being. That's why he'd hidden those vibrant blue irises as he left – he could have spent a lifetime staring into their cerulean depths.

_Alfred. _Ivan slowly rose, his amethyst gaze fixed on the shrinking figure below. _To have captured my interest… you are indeed a fascinating specimen, yes?_

Suddenly, his breath caught in his throat. Alfred was smiling up at the sky, tears streaming from his azure eyes and tracing shimmering paths down his pink, frost-nipped cheeks.

Ivan faltered, trembling with the effort of restraining himself.

_Someday. _He assured himself, struggling to slow his pounding heart, _I'll return for him someday._


End file.
